Cold Spite (Cold Justice: Most Wanted #5)

Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

D elilah arrived at Unit Chief Quentin Savage’s modest townhouse wearing a red woolen hat over a long blonde wig, dark sunglasses, blue jeans, and a red parka that Alex said belonged to his friend Haley Cramer.

She stepped out of a Porsche 911 that also belonged to the other woman—a vehicle she’d left in Cramer, Parker and Gray’s secure parking facility while she would be away for her wedding and honeymoon.

Alex insisted Haley wouldn’t mind her using it, but Delilah was a little nervous.

It was a really nice car.

Delilah had never owned anything quite so expensive. Her family drove practical vehicles that blended into the DC burbs—a habit she’d taken to the West Coast even if she’d graduated to an SUV. The Porsche was sleek and attractive and gained attention even in the short drive over from the compound.

Alex’s theory was that at a quick glance, most people would mistake Delilah for Savage’s fiancée, who was a regular here. People saw what they expected to see. She grabbed the designer leather duffle bag that Alex had lent her and locked the car. Walked confidently to the black painted door of No. 12. She let herself inside, placing the bag in the hallway, and stood there looking around with some trepidation. The place was neat and tidy. Nicely furnished but little clutter. Definitely a bachelor pad. The couple were moving into a new house after the wedding. Somehow that made it feel a little less like an invasion of privacy to stay here now.

She went over and drew the shades. Parker had shadowed her back here, checking that no one followed her before he headed home to spend the evening with his family. Everything looked fine and, as a precaution, they’d checked for listening and tracking devices on her and her stuff at the compound. As Scanlon wasn’t psychic, there was no way for him to predict where she was going to be and therefore no reason to believe she’d be in any danger at Savage’s condo.

She slipped out of the heavy parka and hung it on a coat rack, removing the dark glasses and putting them on a side table. She removed the hat and wig too, leaving them beside the glasses.

Her phone buzzed, and a jolt of excitement moved through her.

But it was Alex saying good night and to text him if there were any issues.

She sent him a thumbs up emoji and found herself gulping in a breath.

It hit her how horribly alone she was right now. Val was dead. David was dead. There was no one in her life to share this time with except the man who’d hurt her so badly in the past, a man she’d never be able to trust emotionally again. The desire to go visit her mom and dad was almost overwhelming as each day brought a deterioration in her father’s condition. But the idea of putting them in danger made that impossible. If Scanlon hurt them, she would never forgive herself.

Tears crowded her eyes, and she blinked furiously.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a key in the lock, and the door opened. Demarco stood there, staring down the barrel of her Glock 26 .

He paused and then lines gathered between his eyes. “I wouldn’t blame you one bit, sweetheart, but maybe let me come inside first to make it easier to dispose of the body.”

He eased through the door, closed, locked it, and her heart thumped violently inside her chest.

She lowered the weapon.

“I brought sushi. I seem to remember you liking—” He cut himself off. “Are you crying?”

She slid the weapon back into the holster at the back of her pants. “No.”

“Delilah,” he admonished.

She wiped her face with both hands. “I was feeling sorry for myself, that’s all. I know I’ve no right to. At least I’m alive.” She headed into a small but well-stocked kitchen to search for plates. Demarco followed her and put the food on the counter in the center of the room, unpacking the bag. He looked like he wanted to say something else about her breaking down but thankfully dropped the subject.

He unpacked the sushi, and her stomach grumbled.

He added a couple of beers, and she got napkins as they immediately fell into a natural easy rhythm. And the loss of him, the enormity of how much she’d missed him all these years struck her all over again.

Goddammit.

He’d dumped her like a piece of garbage. So what if he’d admitted it had been a mistake? She’d been eviscerated .

She found a tissue and blew her nose, then washed her hands. She had every right to be emotional. She didn’t need to apologize to anyone. Oddly, she knew the only person she needed to convince was herself.

She dragged a stool a little further away and joined him at the breakfast nook.

He’d uncapped the beers and held his up for a toast. She reluctantly tapped his bottle with hers knowing she was being drawn back into the enticing web that was Cas Demarco .

“To new beginnings and putting that sonofabitch back where he belongs.”

She found herself nodding, although the new beginnings was a bit of a stretch.

He divided the sushi evenly onto each plate and split the wasabi and pickled ginger down the middle. She wondered if he was trying to tell her something, but she already knew she was his equal.

“Any updates?” He swallowed a piece of gyoza and closed his eyes like he’d gone to heaven. The guy had always appreciated good food.

“Discovered that Joseph now sports a matching scar to the one Virgil has on his face. The two of them are practically clones nowadays.”

Demarco frowned. “That complicates things.”

“No kidding. We’ll have to track both of them all the time without knowing which is which.” She used chopsticks to eat the first bite. The saltiness of the sauce burst on her tongue. God, she was hungry. She washed the food down with a mouthful of Chinese beer. “This is delicious.”

She wiped her mouth and saw Demarco was smiling but not looking at her. He was trying to win her over with food. Not a bad tactic.

“What about you? Any updates?”

“Not really. Early days on the investigation into the bomb itself, although TEDAC were on scene and took the evidence to the National Lab here at Quantico rather than Alabama—at least initially because it might be possible to get touch DNA from the explosives and it is closer. Unfortunately, it will take time to process, but it’s a priority.” He pulled a face. “I had to confide in a couple of my teammates what was going on or risk getting waterboarded, but I also swore them to secrecy.”

She gave a little shrug even though she dreaded the news getting back to Ridgeway even more than the thought of Scanlon figuring out the truth. “The cat is out of the bag, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Not about us.”

“Hmm.”

“They won’t tell anyone.”

She ate another piece of sushi roll, not sure she believed him. “What about Trainer and all his cronies?”

“The director wants Trainer to keep it confidential, they’ll keep it confidential.”

She smacked her lips together thoughtfully. “Not that it matters.”

Demarco’s brows furrowed in anger. “It matters that Scanlon doesn’t figure out you’re alive, Lilah.”

They both froze at the use of the nickname he used to call her in the heat of passion.

Her pulse raced and she held her breath.

Crimson stained his cheeks, and he looked away. Grabbed another piece of dynamite roll.

Appropriate .

She cleared her throat. “Scanlon will find out eventually.”

“Yeah, but hopefully by then he’ll be back in leg irons.”

“From your lips to God’s ear.” She raised her bottle again, and he clinked it.

They ate in companionable silence for a few moments, and she felt remarkably at peace considering how much her life had blown up and how vehemently she’d hated Demarco right up until…

She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she’d truly forgiven him, but it was probably the moment that bomb had gone off and scared her to her bones.

Life really could be cut short in an instant and regrets were something she’d rather not have to live with. She already had too many to count.

She gripped the bottle tighter. “I’m glad you weren’t killed this morning.”

His yellow eyes locked on hers. Then he smiled. “Makes two of us. I spotted a flash of sunlight in the woods, and the egotistical fuck had taken an FBI ball cap off my dash.”

He looked thoughtful. “I should thank you. If you hadn’t called me up on Monday night, I wouldn’t have been on guard. I wouldn’t have been suspicious, especially in my grief…I owe you my life.” He let the words sink in before asking. “Why did you? Call me, that is?”

Her throat tightened. “Because as much as I hated you, I didn’t want that bastard to murder you too.”

He nodded, acknowledging the truth. Then let the quiet stretch.

He’d always been able to hold his silence when anyone else would have filled the void with noise or movement. It was another thing she’d liked about him—the peacefulness of his company when they hadn’t been fucking like bunnies. She hadn’t remembered that until now.

She watched him maneuver his chopsticks with those long, clever fingers and recalled how his touch had made her body ignite. That was something she’d never forget.

She looked away. It had been so long for her. She’d dated a little, at Val’s insistence, after a few years of being a virtual social recluse, but no one had come close to replicating the feelings she and Cas had once shared. She could count the number of times she’d had sex with anyone else in the past five years on the fingers of one hand—with digits to spare—but she’d bet money he couldn’t say the same thing.

He’d told her there’d been no one else significant in his life—and for some foolish reason she believed him. Although she knew he was a very good liar.

But what if…

What if they were doomed to have been “the one” for each other? Only for Cas to burn them down as surely as her apartment had gone up in flames?

And perhaps, given his upbringing, she shouldn’t be surprised. He hadn’t had a loving role model the way she did. He’d had a series of foster placements but nothing that had worked out long term.

What did that do to a child?

She watched his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat as he tipped back his beer. Just the look of him sent a shiver through her body. He reached across the butcher’s block for some more food, and she noticed a dark stain on the back of his T-shirt.

“Are you bleeding?” Her voice came out sharp.

He twisted to look over his shoulder. “It’s nothing. Some burning shrapnel fell out of the sky, and it keeps opening up.” He turned his palms up toward her. “This is the worst of it. Oh, and I banged up my right knee, which hurts like a bitch now that I think about it, but it’s just bruised. I feel most resentful about losing my truck. She was a beauty, and I’d had her for nearly a decade.”

“Wow, hard to imagine you had the truck before we even met.” She picked at the label on the beer. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“It does.” His voice dropped. “And yet, other times it seems like yesterday.”

For a moment she couldn’t breathe, the moment as fragile as a spiderweb.

Those golden eyes looked as if he felt it too, but then he looked away, breaking the spell. “Reminds me. I have all the things Killion promised, including an F150 with government plates.” He hitched his head toward the front door. “It’s in the bag by the front door.”

The government tag would prove useful in terms of not getting stopped by other law enforcement personnel but meant Killion could probably track her movements. “What will you be driving?”

His expression was rueful. “I think Killion assumed we’d share, but I can have a teammate pick me up or you could drop me at the gates of Quantico. Tomorrow I’ll borrow a vehicle from work.”

“I kind of like the Porsche I’m driving, but I’ll need to drop it back at the company lot tomorrow.”

“Suits you. Sleek. Classy. ”

She glanced at his lips as he smiled that sad smile of his.

Dammit .

She had to get out of here before she did something stupid. But what difference would it make at this point? Her heart couldn’t be broken again—it had never recovered. She knew this wouldn’t go anywhere. She wouldn’t get drawn into the same emotional entanglements that had scared him off last time. But laying him flat on the bed and having her wicked way with him?

The idea of that was tempting.

Her body buzzed.

“Any word on Johnson or Holtz?” She finished her beer and tried not to look like she was thinking about sex because it was truly a bad idea.

“Johnson is on the West Coast. Holtz transferred to SEAL Team Ten a couple of years ago, so he’s based out of Virginia Beach. Apparently, SAC Ridgeway ordered an examination of the prison logs regarding anyone who visited Scanlon in prison after you voiced your concerns to him on Monday afternoon and then died. Trainer got a copy of that report and both the SEALs’ names turned up on it.”

She was surprised Ridgeway had followed up. Presumably her colleagues in San Diego would be examining all her and David’s old cases to see who might hold a grudge. She hated to waste their time this way. She hated that her friends would be grieving her death. She hated hiding, but at the same time what Alex Parker said last night was correct. Catching Scanlon would make it worthwhile.

“I’d like to see that list of visitors. See if I recognize anyone.”

“I can probably arrange that. Trainer might ask Parker for help tracking down all Scanlon’s communications from prison anyway. Will take a while as a lot of journalists and groupies hooked onto his story about being set up by the government, and as far as I can tell Scanlon spoke to anyone who’d listen to his crazy conspiracy theories that were designed to somehow get him out on appeal. ”

“Good thing we got him on tape committing his crime then,” she said pointedly.

“Yeah, well, I hated that plan from start to finish, and I hate the memory of it now.” He stared down into his empty beer bottle. “We could have rigged his truck.”

“Not without someone from the cartel potentially spotting the cameras when they loaded the cocaine. Plus, the conversation we had on our trip across the border showed he knew exactly what he was doing. My evidence nailed his case shut.”

“Which is probably why he went for you first.”

She shivered and wished he hadn’t reminded her.

Then she yawned, covering her mouth in surprise. It was early, but she hadn’t slept much last night. “I guess I’m more tired than I realized. There goes my plan to find out where Kevin Holtz lives and stake out his ass overnight.”

“These are Navy SEALs, not some developer caught taking bribes.” Cas’s gaze was molten hot. “They’ll spot a surveillance tail from two hundred feet.”

She rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet.

“Plus, if they are involved and they see you?—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I know. And I want Scanlon to believe I’m dead too, but doing nothing while he runs around the country attacking people without any consequence is beyond frustrating.”

“There’ll be consequences. You can bet on it.”

She grimaced because she knew that likely meant HRT being deployed, which put Cas and his team in danger. She hated the thought of that more than she hated the idea of confronting the sonofabitch herself. But she wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t go rogue or try to bring Scanlon down alone. If that was her plan, she’d have just stayed dead.

And Demarco would have been blown to smithereens this morning…

Her mouth went dry as the terrible realities of this week pressed down on her. It had been a difficult few days, and she hoped to hell Scanlon was taking a break too so they could all get some rest.

Alex and Yael had set up various programs looking for Scanlon’s face in thousands of online places. Malls. Traffic cams. Airports. Transit. It was scary how much surveillance went on in this country, and that wasn’t even counting any government programs.

Right now, she could barely keep her eyes open. “You finished?”

She cleared the leftovers into the fridge, surprised when he went outside and returned with more supplies, which he put away.

She turned when he was wiping down the counter. His T-shirt had stuck to the dried blood on his back.

“I’m pretty sure the only shower is in the en suite. Why don’t you take one now, and we’ll make sure your back is bandaged afterward so you don’t bleed all over Quentin Savage’s spare bed. I’ll go after you.”

His eyes were dark gold when they met hers. Was he remembering all the times they’d showered together? Or was that just her? He nodded without a word and headed off to gather his belongings.

She crossed her arms and wondered if the lust was all one way. Despite the odd sparks of heat between them, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure he still found her attractive. She didn’t want to care, but for some reason she did.

Which was messed up.

She pressed her lips together. She didn’t need this right now.

And yet, that old adage crept into her mind. No guarantee of tomorrow .

Didn’t matter. She had no intention of humiliating herself again.

Been there. Done that. Had the scars to prove it.